Spockamolé
by Madtrek
Summary: Spock plus Guacamolé equals Spockamolé! The bridge crew is challenged to a cook off for the New Year's Party.Who knows what ensures? Used to be TOS. drunk!Characters later. smidge of slash, mostly S/U
1. Challenged

**Spockamolé**

**Chapter 1 - Challenged**

A/N: This story works best if you visualize what's going on as you read.

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><p>"Ack! Jim, this is horrible! Who taught you to cook?" Bones choked down his bite of cake.<p>

"Ah, no one in particular. Is it that bad?"

"All due respect ser, but is iz dat bad. I em glad ve sampled eet before da partee." Chekov stared at his plate of cake with disgust.

"Well then, Bones. You cook this New Year's party."

"Captain, I believe tradition states that the captain or acting captain must create and serve a cake for the yearly anniversary of that particular starship's mission." Spock chimed in, setting his plate down on the briefing room table.

"Well maybe tradition could be broken for the _Enterprise_. Apparently our captain can't cook at all, or for that matter follow a recipe. Unless of course, we could incapacitate the captain and make Spock cook." Sulu looked up at Spock, Spock being a good head taller. Spock looked back at him in slight alarm.

"Well, Mr. Sulu, we could. Spock, can ye cook?" Scotty's head tilted and a mischievous smirk graced his face.

Spock's eyes widened and he looked as alarmed as a Vulcan could be. "I do not know if I am sufficiently proficient to create reasonably well-tasting food."

"Better idea! We're going to have a cook off. You make the best dish you can, and we serve them at the New Year's party." Sulu had stood up on his chair to deliver his extravagant speech. "So figure out what you're making tonight, because you'll need to make it tomorrow afternoon before the party."

The bridge crew and the 2 people from sickbay who wouldn't leave Jim alone (the higher ranked stayed up on the bridge, so the lower-ranked constantly was up there to make sure he signed stuff) took the matter into consideration.

Nyota had her finger on her lower lip, lost in thought. Suddenly, she sprang up. It would've fallen over if it wasn't bolted to the floor. "I know what I'm making!" A wide grin lit up her face.

"Well it's not beating my ri…" The nurse stopped mid-sentence. "It's a surprise."

"Okay then." The two women stared each other down across the table.

"Please, ladies, relax. It's a cooking contest." Jim put his hands out, one palm facing each woman in the universal 'Enough' gesture.

"Jim-boy, I thought you knew more about women than that. Women take cooking very seriously. A solemn look crossed the doctor's face.

"I must agree, Captain. In my childhood, my father occasionally would attempt to comment or improve my mother's food. These occasions had an 86.45% probability of my father and I being prohibited from entering the kitchen for at least 48 standard hours. I would concur that human women are extremely competitive and protective of their cooking when men interfere." Spock tilted his head slightly.

"Well I'll be damned. The hobgoblin is agreeing with me. But what our point is, Jim, is that you need to back off and let them do their thing."

"As we should do ours. Tasting terminated. Return to your posts. Be prepared to cook tomorrow!" This last sentence was accented with a flare in the captains eyes and a smirk covering his mouth.

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><p>Christine knew exactly what she was going to make. As a girl, her mother had taught her how to make risotto. Consequentially, that same risotto had won Christine 200 credits in the Tennessee State Fair. Nyota didn't stand a chance.<p>

Nyota poked around her kitchenette. She was looking for some real rosemary for her chicken dish, not the crappy replicated stuff. "Yes! Now I just need honey. Hmmm…"

Scotty was at a loss. "Wha em I goin' tah cook? Wha do I even 'ave?" He came up with bourbon. After determining there was no meat of any kind in his quarters, he set off for storage to find some.

Leonard wandered down to his quarters. The bed was realitvly un-slept-in because he spend most nights on the spare biobed in his office. He meandered his way to the fridge. Nothing edible. He started looking through random drawers, searthing fro something to eat. He came up with kabob sticks. "Not bad…"

Pavel knew what he was doing. One word. Baklava.

HIkaru was practicing with his knives. He juggled three large kitchen knives and a butcher's knife. He grabbed one knife and flicked it at the dartboard above the door. He threw another after it. Then the other two, at the same time. Every one of them stuck a perfect bulls eye. Yep, he was still good. They didn't stand a chance, competing with a trained hibachi chef.

"I am going to redeem myself. I can make cake! I'm not stupid!" Jim paced his quarters, muttering to the ceiling. He remembered his cakes in the past. Wait there was that one year. Mom had made cupcakes…

Spock though back to his childhood. What was that variety of dip his mother had enjoyed greatly? Ah, yes. Guacamolé.


	2. Partee!

**Spockamolé**

**Chapter 2 – Partee!**

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><p>AN: Sorry about the wait, the Klingons came and killed the plot bunnies.

Another A/N: This chapter is WAY longer than the other.

Yet Another A/N: This is not the end! There will be at least one more chapter, maybe two if I feel like it.

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><p>Scotty stalked the halls of the freezers. Where was th' bloody meat? Y'd think, there'd 'ave to be some, inless the whole ship is full of those damned Vulcans. Nae that there bad, but they don' et meat! Wha' a loss… Off on his train of thought, he walked straight into the row of freezers at the end of he aisle, and wound up with his face smooshed against glass, seeing nothing but the now found meat.<p>

The teriyaki was almost done. The chicken sizzled as she threw more soy sauce in. Christine was going down.

Pavel laid his 5th layer of dough down. He scattered some nuts over the top, then went to go find Nyota for some honey.

When Pavel rang Nyota's doorbell, (they weren't really doorbells, but it was the same concept) the sound of humming cut, very quickly. The door opened momentarily, and the poor Russian was faced with a terrifying Lieutenant in a dark room. Sizzling still came from the kitchenette. The look on the feral female's face set off every "enemy; possibly fatal" alarm in his head stuffed full of Starfleet training. The wise ensign turned and hightailed it.

Christine wiped her hands on the dish-towel. Done. It had been awhile since she'd made that. She picked up the spoon and tasted. Mhhhm. Still good as ever.

Cupcakes. Who the hell came up with that idea anyway? Little mini-cakes wrapped in paper. Jim looked back at the recipe. 2 cups flour. Failure. They spelled it wrong. F-L-O-W-E-R. Not that hard. Why not-on-earth would you put flowers in cake anyway?

McCoy had everything he needed. He slunk through hallways; kabob sticks held in front of him like a fencing foil. He whispered into his communicator, "Computer, location of Mr. Spock"

"Mr. Spock is in his quarters."

He did a little happy dance as he snapped the communicator shut. Spock wasn't in the labs till 3 in the morning like normal. He must've been cooking.

He opened the labs using his CMO 'super-access' and let himself in. He crept to the back where the contained firing area was, setting the bags of meat and vegetables down. He pulled out a stick and loaded it. He turned on the fire till it was roaring. _This_ was how you made kabobs.

Hikaru rooted through the depths of storage. I mean, you'd think that on a starship like this, there would at least be such a mundane thing like eggs. As he was looking, he slipped on something gooey. He got up off his butt, and looked at it. It had a slightly yellow tinge to it, and it was somewhat gelatinous. He kept walking, and found another splotch. This one had a blob of yellow. Eggs. What else? The next thing found on the floor were a bunch of flowers. What the hell? As he followed his egg trail, he found none other than his CO, rooting through a freezer. He cleared his throat.

The captain whirled around. "Sulu?" The look on his face was similar to the look he had when he had been caught sneaking out of sick-bay. It was an interesting combination of guilty and hyper-alert and shocked.

"Sir, would you happen to know why the floor is covered in eggs?" He eyed his Captain, puzzled.

"Ahh, sorry about that. I was looking for some good ones, but these are all brown. They must have gone bad."

Hikaru resisted the urge to face-palm. "Captain, some eggs _are_ brown. That's just how they are."

"Oh. Well then. I'll … just be going back to my quarters now." Jim grabbed a half empty box of eggs and ran for it.

Hikaru grabbed his eggs and left, granting himself the relief of finally face-palming.

Spock 'hacked up' an avocado, to use one of the doctor's favorites terms. He added the peppers and seasonings, and started on the lime. Next he threw some soy sauce and a certain variety of Terran sauce known as 'hot' sauce for its 'spicy' qualities. Spock opened a drawer, pulling out a spoon. He filled it with 'hot' sauce, and indulged himself, slipping the entire thing into his mouth. He found it to be the only Terran food substance reminiscent of any one of the traditional foods of Vulcan, thus making it the most appealing food available on the _Enterprise_. Certainly no one would know.

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><p>Two hours later, a certain Lieutenant walked into newly cleared and decorated shuttle bay. He sprang along, as he pushed a cart through the large set of double doors. The shuttle bay had been decorated in streamers and balloons, but it was empty. Sulu got that creepy feeling of being the first to arrive at Prom, and everything is all decorated, and the teachers are all just milling about trying to talk to you. Oh well. Might as well start setting up. He rolled his cart over to the row of tables labeled 'FOOD'. Really quite logical labeling. Mr. Spock would be proud, if not for the whole proudness-being-an-emotion thing. He positioned his cart, just right, sitting on the end of the row. He pushed the button. The entire cart had a spaz attack. It exploded, unfurling into a flat grill, with all his ingredients on shelves to the sides. He confidently smirked, and left to his quarters to change.<p>

Jim looked down in satisfaction. The table on the end of the row now held 27 dozen cupcakes, just enough for all ¾ of the crew of 430 that would be attending. Each cupcake had 4 flowers on top, petals and all. The replicator had actually asked him if he really wanted 1300 flowers before handing them over. He started to prowl, checking for his competitors. The only sign of anyone else having been there was a flat grill/stove thing. It looked fancy and complicated. The Kirk gene kicked in, and he dutifully followed said irrational curiosity gene and went to play with the grill thing. He was about to mess with the knobs, before he realized all the labels were in Japanese. Crap. It must be Sulu's. He scampered back to his cupcakes, not wanting to incur the wrath of his Helmsman.

Spock somehow gracefully loped into the shuttle bay, precisely 30 minutes prior to the scheduled starting time of the party. Jim had added the 'somehow' in his head because his XO was holding the largest, reddest bowl he had ever seen. It was taller than Spock himself.

"Spock?"

A somewhat muffled "Yes, Captain?" sounded from behind said enormous scarlet bowl.

"What is in the… bowl?"

"It is a Spanish Terran dish commonly referred to as 'Guacamolé'. It was one of my mother's favorite food selections. It was the only food of Terra that she demanded she be able to have on Vulcan." Spock resumed his walking, to set the guacamolé down on the floor next to where Jim had set up his cupcakes. Without a word, Spock crouched down on the floor, twisted something to the side, and a giant circular piece of the floor came out. He set the piece of the floor a few feet to the side, and stood up. He picked up his bowl and placed the entire thing into the hole, so about 2 ½ feet remained above the ground. Jim looked down in amazement and amusement. The giant red bowl now resembled a moon crated filled with gooey green substance. Spock nodded to his captain and strolled out the door. Jim resumed arranging his cupcakes. When Spock returned minutes later, he was carrying what seemed to be a large circular half-pipe and a giant bag slung over his shoulder. Spock walked over to his moon-crater of guacamole and set the bag down gingerly. He then set the donut-shaped rack over the top of the bowl. It hung just on the edge of the bowl, surrounding the entire outside of it, projecting 9 inches. Spock grabbed his bag, tipping it just slightly that a thin stream of chips poured out and into his donutish half-pipe. He walked all the way around, pouring chips while Jim watched him with fascination. When the half-pipe was full, he picked up his bag and turned to the captain.

"Jim, may I leave this underneath your table?"

"Hmm? Oh, ah, yes. Sure." Jim snapped out of his reverie. His First placed the bag under the table. Spock took the piece of flooring and stuffed it in a closet. Wow. He had really had this all planned out.

As Spock was returning to where Jim stood, Nyota walked in, followed by a red-shirted ensign pushing a tiered cart. She smiled smugly at her higher-ranking officers before realizing there was a giant red moon-crater in the floor. "Um, sirs…?"

Jim pointed at Spock and shrugged. Nyota raised her eyebrows, but remained silent.

"Nyota." Spock nodded to her as he went left to return to his quarters.

"Why does he get to call you Nyota?" Jim's brow furrowed.

"Because he's my boyfriend."

Jim hhmphed and retreated to his quarters.

The rest of the competitors soon showed up to set up, and then left to change.

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><p>Cupcake paced outside the double doors to the shuttle bay. Was he really referring to himself as Cupcake now? It had been an honor to receive a nickname from the captain, even if it had been a little ridiculous. First his friends had started calling him that, then the whole ship, excepting Mr. Spock. He had even heard that the new security ensigns with promise had begun to be called 'cupcakes'. Then he saw the captain pushing a car loaded with hundreds of cupcakes and wearing a 'Miss America' sash proclaiming him to be 'The Cupcake Man'. He had stared blankly when the captain said to him, "Hey, Cupcake." He wondered if the captain had a cupcake obsession. Maybe it was just a coincidence. Or maybe it was all a joke on him. With the captain, who knew? Well, the point of Chief of Security Lieutenant Commander Giotto pacing in front of the doors was to make sure none of the party goers went in before party time. Members of the senior crew had been coming in and out for the past hour, with no explanation. Now he could see none other than Mr. Spock 'gracefully loping' (as the ensigns had dubbed the XO's walk) up the hallway towards him.<p>

"Commander." Giotto warily eyed Mr. Spock but stepped away from the doors to allow him to enter. The XO nodded to him and stepped inside. There had been something odd about the First Officer. Then Cupcake realized. Spock was wearing black jeans with a black dress shirt that had the first 2 buttons undone and was rolled almost up to the elbows. Mr. Spock was _never_ seen out of uniform. Wonder how many people would be betting the captain made him do it and if he knew that what he was wearing is considered 'sexy' in Terran culture. There _had_ been that rumor about him and Nurse Chapel, and last time he checked the XO and the CCO were dating, but… Cupcake's thought process felt like Sulu had done one of those barrel rolls Engineering hated when Nyota Uhura, Chief Communications Officer, walked in. Maybe it was _her_ that had gotten Spock wear what he had been wearing. Uhura was wearing dark jeans that looked like they had been _sprayed_ on and a red low cut top with just a hint on midriff at the bottom of her shirt.

"Lieu… Lieute… Lieutenant!" Cupcake stammered.

"Hey, Cupcake. How's it going? You going to join the party?" She batted her eyelashes at him.

"Uh, uh, yeah…"

"Okay! Come on in soon! And change out of that uniform." She winked and danced through the doors. Cupcake stared at the door for another 30 seconds, which is how Hikaru found him. And would you guess what? Hikaru was wearing a black shirt and pants with and apron and a hat with a big dent in the top. All of his clothing was engraved with Japanese characters in bright green thread.

"'Karu, what is going on in there?

"Whadeya mean?"

"Wait till you get in there. Mr. Spock, Ms. Uhura and the Captain are in there."

"Alright, Cupcake. Come on in eventually, 'kay?

"Sure…" His reply was lost on the closing of the doors.

The next person Cupcake saw was the Doctor. Thankfully, he was wearing somewhat normal, if dressy and non-uniform, clothing. He had on jeans and an orange dress shirt with the sleeves rolled past the elbows and the top 4 buttons undone.

"Hiya, Cupcake."

"Doctor." Cupcake nodded.

"Somethin' up, Cupcake? Ya' look creeped."

"I'd look at the outfits inside, Doctor."

McCoy's eyes widened. He warily stepped in. Cupcake heard something along the lines of "Holy… green-blooded… sonova…you wearing? Uhura…pants… the hell?"

'Little' Pavel strolled up, wearing different shades of olive. "Coopcake! Vy are you here? You should be in da partee!"

"Pavel, It hasn't started yet. Practically the entire command crew's in there, so I bet you can just go in."

"Spacibo, Coopcake! The only member of the crew not currently legal called over his shoulder as he bounced through the doors.

_Note: Spacibo = phonetic translation of 'thank you' in Russian_.

At 8:50, Nurse Chapel walked up dressed in a purple top with a flowy purplish skirt, and accompanied by a bouncing red-dress-shirt-clad engineer. "Ms. Chapel. Mr. Scott."

"Ahh please, C'pcake. It's parteh nigh'. Call me Scotty."

"Yes, Scotty. Well then you should wait until you see the costumes in there."

"Shou' I beh concerned?"

"By the sound of it, Scotty, you should be. I am." The nurse eyed the door. "Well. Shall we?" The two linked arms and strolled in.

About 10 minutes after the COE and the CNO went in, the people started to trickle into the room. At 9:02, the crowd overwhelmed poor Cupcake. He gave up and went inside.

When Nyota walked in the room, both the mouths of her CO and her boyfriend dropped open.

"N-Nyota, what…?" Spock's eyes seemed glued to her legs for a moment, before snapping back to her face.

"Like what you see? Because I do." She batted her eyelashes at him.

Jim pouted. How is it that the _Vulcan_ got the hottest girl on the ship? _He_ was the womanizer. It's not fair.

Then the CMO had walked in the door and had started swearing at her and Spock for their outfits. They ignored him.

About 15 minutes later, after the whole of the senior crew had trickled in, the doors burst open in a flood of people. The music started, and colored lights danced over every surface. People swarmed over the food selections, not knowing the compliments and 'constructive' criticism for the food should actually be aimed at their senior officers, who stood by and watched in amusement.

The only non-anonymous dish was Sulu's. He stood by his flat grill/stove thing and did his thing. Knives twirled through the air, flipping uncracked eggs, drinks and food through air from a spatula and onto people's plates. In the egg's case, they went from the spatula and into the dent in his hat and into his pockets. Pavel watched in amazement, not acknowledging to the compliments on the baklava floating through the air.

She listened as compliments and 'constructive' criticism on the murmured throughout the crowd. She, being the Captain's Yeoman, was the central gossip hub for the entire ship. She knew everyone on the ship, and everyone knew her. And when she said everyone, she meant _everyone_. She held meaningful conversations with Mr. Spock and the cleaning staff in the same hour. If people wanted to find out the real and true gossip, they came to her. She filtered the entire gossip material, providing the new, interesting and ALWAYS true stuff, while dismissing the rest.

She had been listening to the opinions on the food, ready to figure out which member of the senior staff made which dish. She, of course, knew that the food was made by the senior crew, but she didn't know who made which dish. Based on the talk, the cupcakes were chocolate flourless cupcakes with chocolate frosting, and had unexplained flowers on top. Could have been Chapel, she was kind of springy, she might've done flowers. She kind of knew who the Baklava was made by, hard not to guess. The steak though, with the bourbon, it could've been Scotty, McCoy, or the captain. They were all 'manly'. The teriyaki chicken dish might have been anyone of them. The kabobs were good. Somehow they had actually been _grilled_, something seemingly impossible on a starship. That probably wasn't Nyota, but it was probably Scotty, the whiz that could make _anything_ happen on a starship. Of course the hibachi was fantastic, if it could've done with less egg. Then this brought us to the guac. Which was hot as hell, but _really_ freakin' good. That was the dish she hung around. The only complaint was that it was spicy, but as she listened, it turned out that most people liked the hotness. And the problem was that she (or anyone else for that matter) didn't have a _clue_ who could've made it. Whoever it was could _cook_. It had to be Christine, Nyota, McCoy, the Captain, Spock, or Scotty. Which really didn't narrow it down much. Well, she would find out in time. She floated off through the crowd to find the betting pool on which would come first: a) Scotty asks the _Enterprise_ to marry him, b) Nyota breaks up with Spock in favor of the Doctor, c) Nyota or Spock asks the other one to marry them, d) Chris gets her act together and asks Spock out, or e) the captain beats Chris to it. (options d and e only if Spock and Nyota were already broken up, the crew wasn't mean.)

Once Spock saw Janice Rand move off with a contemplating look on her face, he estimated that there was an 80.349% chance that the news would spread of his dish and more crew members would try it. He had no doubt that the cupcakes were made by the captain in an attempt to 'redeem' himself for his horrendous cake yesterday. It would be wise to sample one, the Captain would quiz him on them tomorrow. How odd. They appear to be brown. Based on the Captain's love for coffee, the miniature cakes were probably espresso based.

Jim walked over to try the steak. It had been doused in some kind of sauce, and it looked quite rare. Then it was either Bones or Scotty, they were the only people that could possibly have meat that rare. He had to try it. He ate a whole serving before noticing that he had never had that flavor before. He noticed other people inquiring about the sauce, didn't know who it belonged to. It had better not be some kind of alcohol, Alpha shift was first up tomorrow.

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><p>2 hours later, the party was rolling. Scotty had drunk 5 lieutenants and an ensign under the table (even though there wasn't supposed to be alcohol on the ship. Scotty must have a still somewhere, deep in the bowels of Engineering), most of the food was gone, everyone was drunk, Spock could usually be seen with a cupcake and chocolate smeared on his face, Jim had kissed 7 girls (or something like that, and Bones might've gotten a few too), the dance floor had turned into a throbbing mass of people, Kevin Riley and Cupcake were doing some kind of bizarre karaoke, Cupcake wearing Jim's 'the Cupcake Man' sash, even though Jim had meant to put it on later, Uhura and Chris could be seen wandering around, draped over each other's shoulders, martinis in hand, Sulu had put away the hibachi and joined the giant game of spin the bottle, and Chekov was drunk, (even though he wasn't even legal) with 6 or 7 yeomen hanging off his shoulders.<p>

People were enjoying themselves immensely. Hikaru's game of Spin the Bottle had grown to encompass half of the room, including the senior crew. Luckily, no one spun Spock or Nyota, who were in the middle of a make-out session, but Jim saw quite a few wasted-but-happy guys.

Later (maybe 45 minutes? Jim's mind had lost his internal clock. It might have been under his bed), people got bored and started dancing, mostly dirtily. At this point, it didn't matter who you were dancing with, and you were usually dancing with a couple people at a time. No one got pissed about it because they were to wasted to care.

Around 3:15, the majority of the crew had fallen unconscious, with a few still eating. This consisted mostly of Spock, who must've eaten 15 cupcakes by this point, and Scotty, who, despite drinking at least a dozen people under the table, was still conscious. The engineer had been teaching Spock Aberdeen Pub songs for the past 20 minutes. Uhura was asleep with her head on Spock's shoulder. The one sober partygoer, a certain Yeoman Janice Rand, noted the entire of this scene. _This_ was gossip material. Her gossip feeds would be buzzing the ship.

Shame that, even with 23rd century medical technology, there still wasn't a cure for the common ail of a hangover.


End file.
